Advice
by realtrashwriting
Summary: Tedros goes to see Guinevere for some late night advice. Sometimes, mothers are the perfect source of information.


**Just a heads up, I have not read book 4. I'm certain that there are inconsistencies in characterization and plot. I get it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own School For Good and Evil**

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 **Advice**

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"Mom, can I ask you something?"

"I-"

"And don't tell Agatha about it." Guinevere looks behind her son's shoulder and doesn't know what she expects to find. Certainly not nobody. It's just him, alone, sneaking into his mother's chambers late at night to ask her a question. He hasn't sought her out to simply 'ask her something' in years, although he also hasn't really gotten the chance to. Arriving home in Camelot, revoking Guinevere's death sentence and trying to manage the crippling debt Camelot had incurred on behalf of Arthur is a feat for any sixteen-year-old boy, but he is doing his best. Worn as he may be, Tedros is proving to be a hard-working king and she couldn't be prouder.

Guinevere pats her bedside, and Tedros slips into the room full of hesitation. He looks like he often does these days: tired, but there is a nervousness there that she's only ever seen when the subject is Agatha. He sits next to her carefully and, although she wants to hold him just as she did when he was a child, she knows that she has to wait for him to initiate this. A few months together isn't quite enough to erase years of abandonment issues.

Tedros, after fidgeting at her side, slips his hands under his legs and rocks a bit in place. It's a stalling tactic, one that soothes him and one that is quite familiar to her. "So," he says finally, "I wanted to ask you something."

"You said that," she says kindly. She has a strong feeling about the subject but diverts it just to make him a little more comfortable. "Is it about Lance perhaps?"

"Wha- No! Of course not," he protests with both conviction and embarrassment; enough that she has to stifle a laugh.

"Then what is it? Agatha?"

Tedros splutters for a few moments before nodding with a fierce flush. "Sort of. Yes. But you can't tell her; seriously. She'd laugh at me."

"Agatha is a soul of Good, Tedros. She would not laugh if it was something serious." He shifts in his spot again. "Talk to me. I want to help. What would you like to discuss?"

"You and Dad," he says slowly. Guinevere tries her hardest not to react too much but she can't resist the strain that has worked its way into her smile or the stiffness in her form.

"O-oh? What about?"

"When you were… together," he says carefully, "you mentioned how he tried to win you over to get you to love him. I remember some of it when I was a child."

"Yes, and I did love him, in a way," she says with a nod.

"But Lancelot was your true love all along. He was somebody you'd loved before Dad asked you to be his Queen."

"I, um, yes?" Guinevere's hands take to worrying one another, but Tedros doesn't take note. "It was a long time ago."

"Maybe that's true, but you're still with Lancelot. No matter how that big oaf acts you still love him. You're even happy with him."

"I'm very happy with him, yes," said Guinevere. Tedros nodded, seemingly conflicted on what to ask next. Her mind works steadily in the silence before the resolution dawns on her with quiet teasing. "And you want the same for you and Agatha?"

What looks to be the beginnings of a protest become nervous laughter and a hand carded through his blond hair.

"Are you and Agatha doing well? You're both so sweet on each other."

Tedros' flush grows more pronounced. "We are happy. I know I am, and I think Agatha is as well."

"But?"

"It's not a 'but' per say," Tedros says. "We both want to be happy in the long run. And we want to do that together."

"So?"

"So I need your advice on how to make Agatha like me more."

"Oh, Tedros-"

"No, no, hear me out." His shoes lay abandoned on the floor and he's now facing her. It's intense and a little endearing. "I know Dad's method wasn't perfect but at least he tried. And Lancelot has to be doing something right if you're still in love with him. And I also know that Agatha likes me; she really likes me. But I want to make her like me more. I want to be worth that kind of affection. I don't want to let her down." He sighs a bit. "Sometimes we get into the dumbest arguments and I wonder if she loves me as much as I love her. Because I love her a lot and I don't want to ruin anything. I don't want to chase her away because I'm not trying enough or because I'm trying too hard. Her happiness is so important to me."

Guinevere smiles softly at her child. His pains and worries are as much his faults as they are hers and she knows this in her heart. He has never had a model of what a healthy relationship is like. She and Arthur had never displayed the same kind of open affection that she and Lancelot do. It feels, sometimes, that there are no models for the love that Tedros seems to want.

"Have you tried talking to her about it?" suggests Guinevere hopefully.

"Not exactly?" He looks at her and she can see the pleading undercurrent. "What should I do?"

Guinevere has never been good with advice. She has never given good speeches and pep-talks and encouragements great enough to inspire armies. But she has always been good at speaking from experience and that is what she does. Taking her son's hands in hers, she smiles down at the calloused fingers of her child with love. "You are a good person, Tedros. You're more than just Good in actions; you are a good human being. And the fact that Agatha can see that is something that draws her closer to you. But it's more than that. She likes you for who you are, Tedros. She cares about you. If you want her to like you more, letting her know that you care about her and want to learn more about her is a great place to start."

"Is that what you and that ogre did?" Tedros wrinkles his nose.

"It's something that we still do. We're always learning about each other. And the more we learn, the harder, sometimes, it is to love one another. But if we love those things and accept them? That's when we grow even closer together." Guinevere's heart warms at the thought of her true love. "Only you know you, Tedros. If you're open to learning about her and allowing her to know things about you, no matter how scary and embarrassing they may be, she won't laugh at you. She'll appreciate that honesty in you."

"What if I can't… you know…"

"Hmm?"

"What if I can't tell her?"

"Then you show her. She's been with you long enough. Sometimes words aren't enough to express how you feel. Actions do just as well, sometimes." She squeezes his hands in emphasis. "Whatever way you do it, as long as you and Agatha approach it together, then you'll surely learn to love each other more than before."

Tedros nods, his head falling forward and landing on the smooth dress of Guinevere's shoulder. "Thank you."

"I believe in you, Tedros," she says quietly before yawning. "Now, if you will excuse me, I think that I'll go back to bed. You're visiting me quite late, you know? You could have talked to me about it when we were wide awake."

"Couldn't risk eavesdroppers," he says. Then, "do you think I could lay down with you? Just for a bit."

"With me?"

"It helps me think. When you're around, I mean." Guinevere smiles wider than she has in a long time.

"I have plenty of pillows. Take your pick."

As they lay next to one another, the moon slots itself over the covers and Guinevere relaxes into the familiar mattress. Only this time, the warmth next to her is her son, and she is never letting go of him again.

Their hands, still clasped and comforting, sit between them and contentment is in every sleepy breath they take.


End file.
